Body and Soul
by MuttsandMoggies
Summary: A series of one-shots, each inspired by a jazz tune. Featuring the entire CA cast of characters, but focusing mainly on Auggie and Annie. Chapter Three - Maiden Voyage.
1. Chapter 1 - Come Fly With Me

**Title: _Body and Soul_**

**Author: MuttsandMoggies**

**Category: Covert Affairs**

**Rating: T+**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Damn!**

_Dear Readers,_

_I'm stepping way outside of my comfort zone and taking baby steps into the world of one-shots. I'll admit it's a little daunting as this fandom has so many wonderful one-shot authors._

_And because Auggie is such a jazz aficionado, each of these ficlets is inspired by a jazz tune. I'll include links to the tracks when I can. Apologies in advance if the list is a little skewed towards vocal pieces. In a previous lifetime, I did musical theatre and occasionally performed with a jazz ensemble. That's where I stocked my own personal juke-box. _

_And so, first up, a loose thread finally tied up._

**Chapter One - _Come Fly With Me_**

_Inspiration: Frank Sinatra's version (that man's phrasing... damn!). Google it or pm me for a link._

_Tag: 2.7, and an AU - Season 4-ish world where Annie and Auggie are still a couple, and Henry never gave Annie that file. Warning: likely to induce diabetes. Yeah, it's that sweet._

_Edited with a few small changes. I'd accidentally uploaded an earlier version._

* * *

"_This _was not what I had in mind when I asked you to come to Istanbul with me," Auggie said, pouting.

"It's a tiny detour. Just something to keep things interesting on our way to our vacation."

"I can think of other ways of keeping things interesting."

Annie grinned. "I'm sure you can, but this was a special request. Think of it as a simple mission."

Auggie's brows shot skyward. He knew how Annie's simplest missions had the annoying habit of going south in a hurry.

"A simple mission," Annie continued, seemingly oblivious to the danger. "We collect the packages. Deliver them to our contact in Milan. Travel on to Istanbul. Have an awesome time at the Jazz Festival. Stop in Milan on the way back. Repeat the steps in reverse. Go home. Easy peasy."

"You make it sound so simple. But things are never simple with you, Miss Walker."

They came to a stop at the gate. "Stop pouting. Their plane's taxiing in." Annie directed Auggie to a chair and took the place next to his. "I mean, seriously, what could possibly go -"

Auggie raised a hand. "Don't say it!"

"It'll be fun."

Auggie sighed. "Yeah." He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Just minutes later, without warning he bolted to his feet and tilted his head towards the jetway. "They're here."

"Seriously, Auggie, how do you..."

He gripped her wrist. "Prepare for impact in three...two...one..."

"Aunt Annie! Auggie!"

To Auggie, the long-delayed reunion was a cacophonous tangle of squeals, and hugs, and kisses, of arms and legs, and one very sticky pair of hands. Managing to extricate himself, Auggie suggested that they grab a bite to eat. Not because he was particularly hungry, but it was as good a way as any to re-establish some semblance of order and control.

"Thank-you two _so _much for doing this," Danielle said later, squirting sanitizer into her daughters' hands.

Annie smiled. "You don't have to keep thanking me. It was on our way. It was just as easy connecting through Milan as it would have been through Rome."

"And you promise this isn't..." Danielle's voice dropped, and she took a quick look around, "... work-related?"

"This is a legitimate, honest-to-goodness vacation, Danielle," Auggie said. He raised his right hand, holding up three fingers. "Scout's honor."

"Why am I not reassured?"

"Trust me, Danielle," Annie replied. "Auggie and I would never do anything to put the girls in danger. We will accompany them to Michael's house and pick them up again in three weeks."

"And if all hell should break loose, then who better to-" A sharp elbow cut him off. "C'mon, no beating up on the blind guy."

"I'd bring them myself, but Michael, and his ..girlfriend. I'm not ready. Besides," Danielle continued breathlessly, "it's not like I can just drop everything and go. I have a huge wedding to cater next week. And my business is just getting off the ground. And I can't send them alone. I just can't."

Auggie found Danielle's hand. "It's okay, Danielle. Breathe. We won't let them out of our sight. Well, Annie won't. And I'll take good care of them all. It's what I do, you know."

"I know," Danielle said, and blew her nose.

"And he's very good at his job," Annie added. "There's no one better."

A tinny voice sounded through the concourse. Annie stood up. "That's our flight. Time to go. Katia, Chloe, give your mom a hug."

"You have their passports and Chloe's allergy meds. And don't forget Binny."

Auggie held up Binny the toy bunny. "I will handcuff Binny to my wrist, if need be. I'm sure I packed handcuffs, if not, Annie-" He gave a grunt as Annie's elbow connected with his ribs. "Again with the abuse."

"Be good, girls. Listen to your aunt and uncle."

"Uncle?" Auggie whispered.

"Play along."

* * *

The lights were dim. Throughout the cabin, whispers and hushed conversations were giving way to soft snores and the quiet sounds of sleep. Katia and Chloe, separated from each other at some point in the past four hours, were fast asleep, with the two adults between them.

"That went better than I expected," Auggie remarked quietly. He gave a soft chuckle. "The crew thinks we're a family."

"We are... sort of. They called you "uncle." It's a start."

"They're good girls. Nothing like my nephews, but I guess these two have better role models."

"For all their problems, Danielle and Michael try to be good parents."

"I meant Danielle and you."

Annie smiled and rested her head on Auggie's shoulder. "Thanks. That means a lot. They are the world to me. I never had much in the way of family. I don't want to screw this up," she said.

"You won't."

"Hmm." For a long time, she said nothing.

"Sleepy?"

"Not yet. I'm enjoying this. It feels strange not having an op. Strange but nice. Normal."

"Just a few more hours and we'll be touching down in Milan. Want to watch another movie?"

"No," she said, with an unexpected edge to her voice. She shifted her position.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. At least I don't think so. I'm not sure."

"Annie..."

Annie lowered her voice. "One of the flight attendants. She keeps staring at you."

"People do that all the time, Annie. You'll get used to it."

"No, not because of that. I think she knows you. Tall, red-hair, pale blue eyes?"

Auggie shrugged. "Sorry, not helping. See if you can get her picture. We can run it through Langley."

"She doesn't look too happy."

"Grab her picture. We'll see what Barber can dig up."

"Wait," she said and grabbed his wrist. "You've been made, Auggie. She's coming over."

"Good evening. Would you care for something a drink?"

Annie noticed she didn't have the drinks cart. If Auggie noticed, he said nothing. Instead, he looked up towards the flight attendant with a smile of genuine delight. "Franka. Fancy meeting you here."

"Of all the planes in all the world, you had to fly..." she recited in a caustic tone.

"In this one? Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"I waited for your call, you know. That entire month and the one after that."

"I'm sorry. Is there a place we can talk?" he repeated, nodding towards the little girl sleeping soundly under his arm.

"This is an airplane," she huffed. "There aren't a lot of nooks and crannies."

"There are things I need to tell you. Things you should know."

"Yeah, I'd say so." She cast a glance at Annie. "Your wife seems seem to be taking this awfully well."

"I told you, Franka. I don't have a wife."

Auggie slowly stood up, gently settling Chloe on his seat. "Franka," he asked and held out his hand.

"All right then. Follow me," she said, taking his arm. He freed his hand and set it on her shoulder instead. The smell of reheated food, a few steps later, announced they were headed to the galley.

"You wanted to talk. So talk."

The temperature seemed to have suddenly dropped by several degrees. He straightened his shoulders. "First, the woman with me isn't my wife. She's a co-worker."

"You seem very cozy for co-workers."

"Maybe more than co-workers, but that's a recent development. She's the one who called me on your phone at Sabiha Gökçen. The girls are her nieces."

"Let me guess, _she's_ not a music journalist either."

He gave her his best boyish grin. "We _are_ going back to the Istanbul Jazz Festival."

Silence.

He continued. "There's not a lot I can say, except that I'm sorry. I never intended to drag you into any of it."

"I waited for your call Auggie."

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

"For two years?"

"These things take time. Are we alone?" Auggie waited for an answer. "Are you nodding?"

"Yeah."

He licked his lips, and dug his hands in his pockets, and leaned back against the bulkhead. "It took a long time to make sure he wouldn't get away again. When I heard that man's voice, it came as much as a surprise to me as it did to you. But when I heard it, I knew he was there, and I had to go after him."

"Was he really the man who blinded you?"

Auggie nodded. "That part was true. He hurt a lot of people. He killed a lot of good people. He won't hurt anyone else."

"You killed him?" she choked out.

"No! God knows I wanted to. I came so close, but I didn't." He reached out, palms up and smiled when he felt place her hands in his. He directed his gaze to her face, wishing he could gauge the look in her eyes. "He's a bad, dangerous man, and he's in prison now. He wouldn't be there if it weren't for the help you gave me. I can't say much more than that, except thank-you."

"You thanked me at Sabiha."

"I still owe you a drink."

"I'll be staying at the Hotel Villa Crespi."

"We have to bring the girls to their father's home. Another time, maybe?"

"I'll hold you to it." She gave his hands a squeeze and let go. "Walk you back to your seat?"

"No need. Eight rows?"

"Yeah. It was nice seeing you again, Auggie."

"Same here."

* * *

"Is the coast clear?"

"I moved Chloe next to Katia," Annie replied, tucking a tablet into the bag at her feet. "You get the aisle this time. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. You should try to get some sleep."

Annie settled against Auggie's shoulder. "I'm glad you mended fences with your ex-girlfriend."

"She wasn't a girlfriend."

"Hmm. Your friend with benefits, then."

Auggie settled in a bit closer. "You know," he whispered in her ear, "I can think of so many better things to talk about on vacation than my former relationships."

"Or we could skip talking entirely," Annie said, reaching up and bringing his lips to her own."

"Now _this _is exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to come on vacation with me."

* * *

_So what do you think? Too sweet? Too schmaltzy? Please review and let me know (but gently)._


	2. Chapter 2 - Memories of You

_Body and Soul_

Chapter Two : Memories of You

_Author's note: Thanks for the lovely reviews and follows. I am so glad you're enjoying this. I can't promise to update every week, but I do plan to continue this as long as I'm inspired. _

_Memories of You__ \- Eubie Blake, published in 1930, covered by several jazz greats, but my personal favorites are the Charles Mingus version, and the Vocal/Piano cover by Shirley Horn. Both renditions (and many more) are available on YouTube._

Tag: No tag to any specific episode, but Annie in this ficlet is very much a Season 5 Annie.

* * *

"Annie, a word, please."

Annie shot a last look at the _Izvestia _article, and followed Joan up the stairs.

"Have a seat, Annie."

"What's going on, Joan?"

"I received an unexpected phone call this morning. It was from Safia Ramsay."

"Safia? Why? I haven't seen her in three years. Not since Mark's star ceremony."

"It wasn't about Mark," Joan replied, folding her hands atop a thin blue folder. "It was about you. Metro PD is looking for you."

Annie's mind raced through her recent local ops. She'd bent a few laws, but nothing warranting police involvement. Still... "Do I need to consult Legal?"

"You're not in trouble, Annie, if that's what you mean. There's no easy way to tell you this." She pushed the folder across the desk.

Annie opened the folder. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the photo. "How?"

"They don't know yet."

"No, I mean how did they find me?"

"He had a picture of you with Mark Ramsay. They called the school. The school called Safia. Safia called me. Do you know him?"

Annie nodded.

"Take all the time you need. And, Annie?

Annie paused at the top of the stairs.

"I'm very sorry."

* * *

"Sound's good, Rob. Enjoy your flight and call me when you get to the safe house. Let me know if there's anything interesting in the Sky Mall."

Auggie ended the call, leaned back, pushed down his headphones, and released a long, slow breath. Three ops running in potential tinderboxes this morning. Three operatives on three delicate missions, all following their protocols. Three missions completed without any major snafus. An atypical Wednesday at the Agency?

Did things always run this smoothly when Walker was on desk duty? Honestly, he could hardly remember.

Speaking of Walker... He checked his watch and grabbed his laser cane.

He paused by the door. "Barber?"

Barber shoved the last of his burrito into his mouth and crumbled the wrapper. "Yeah, Boss?"

"I'm heading downstairs to grab some lunch. Things are quiet, but if anything should pop up during the next 45 minutes, you're in charge.

"Got it!"

He waited a moment longer, "You know that stuff's gonna kill you, right?"

"Yeah, but it tastes so good. The right balance of chewy, greasy, spicy. Besides, everyone's got to die of something."

"Whatever happened to kale smoothies and healthy living?"

"I didn't last the day."

Auggie laughed and ambled over to Annie's work station. The space was quiet and empty.

"She's not here, Auggie. Last I saw her, she was speaking with Joan."

Auggie frowned. "Thanks, Millie." He pulled out his phone, and dialed Annie's encrypted phone. He heard it vibrate on her desk.

"Her phone's here," Millie said.

"Yeah, I just figured that out. Any idea where she went?"

"Sorry. If I see her I'll let her know you were looking for her."

Her personal number went straight to her voicemail. He left a message to call him back, and made his way up to Joan's desk.

"I was looking for Annie. She's not answering her phone."

"She asked for the rest of the day off. Personal time. Said she'd be back in tomorrow."

"Did she say why?"

"They're called 'personal days' for a reason, Auggie. If she'd wanted us to know, she'd have told us."

An thin needle of fear pricked Auggie's heart. Annie's health was never far from his mind. She'd assured him she was fine, told him the course of experimental treatments she'd begun was having excellent results. And because he couldn't bear to consider any other possible outcome, he had believed her.

He hurried through the coffee line. Lunch could wait.

* * *

All the way into DC, images of times from another life flickered through her mind. Annie, age five, perched high above the crowd on her father's shoullders watching the bands and floats of an Independence Day parade. Annie age eleven, sitting by her father's side, her hand safely tucked in his as their feet dangled ove the edge of the Preikestolen. Annie aged thirteen, late at night behind the wheel of her father's car, spinning donuts in the KMart parking, with a solemn promise never to breathe a word of this to her mother.

"We're here, Miss."

* * *

"Dude! That was like the shortest 45 minutes ever," Barber said.

"Guess I wasn't hungry, after all."

Barber picked up the rest of his lunch and hoisted himself out of Auggie's chair. "Whatever you say, boss. All yours."

Auggie smiled his thanks and sat. "Do me a favor, will you?

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Tap into security and tell me if Walker's car is in the parking lot."

Barber left and Auggie leaned back in his chair. He fired up Hummingbird, and began checking the entrances of the various DC hospitals, knowing it was a long shot.

* * *

There were forms, signatures, releases, funeral home arrangements. She wondered if Danielle had had to handle this when she had "died". Had Auggie been there for her? One day, maybe she'd ask him.

Finally the last form was signed, stamped, and placed in a file folder.

"Was there a will, life insurance?"

"I don't know. It's been a while since I saw him." Like sixteen years, Annie thought.

"We should have preliminary results as to a cause of death within ten days. The full report usually takes six weeks or so."

"That's fine."

"That's it. Would you like some more time with your father?"

It was a little late for that. Still, when the grief counselor left the room, Annie stayed behind a while. Just her, her father, and memories.

* * *

"Her car's here..."

"Thanks." What was going on?

"...but she's not."

"What?"

"She left the building at 10:47, and took a shuttle to E Street. Got off at St. Dominic's."

Auggie frowned. Annie had never struck him as being particularly devout, so what was she doing at a church? "What's your game, Walker?" He pulled up the church's info, and checked the schedule. That's when Hummingbird registered a hit just a few doors down at 401 E Street. He typed a quick command, and even he was surprised when his suspicion panned out.

"You're on again, Eric. Is Joan still at her desk?"

"Uh, yeah. Where are you going?"

But Auggie was already heading up to the mezzanine and out of earshot.

"You need the rest of the day off?" Joan said, a dubious note creeping into her voice. "Why?"

"It's called 'personal time' for a reason, Joan.

"I could deny your request."

"But you won't."

"Just make sure you let Annie know that I had nothing to do with this."

* * *

He didn't need to check the address. The chirp at the side door sent him right back to Annie's second day at the Agency and told him he was at the right location. The woman at the desk led him to the viewing area.

"I should have known you'd track me down."

"It's 'déja-entendu' all over again." His joke fell flat.

"We lived in a dozen different cities when I was growing up. So why did he have to come here to die?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, Annie?"

"I didn't intend it to be."

"Who died? What's going on, Annie?"

He heard the click of a light witch.

"Allow me to introduce Colonel James Paul Walker, USAF, retired... deceased."

"Annie, I am so sorry." He reached for her hand but found only air.

Auggie's head was spinning. He knew Annie's father was a retired Air Force officer, but she never spoke of him. Outside of the information in her file and his few interactions with Danielle, he knew nothing of Annie's family or upbringing. "I had no idea your dad lived in D.C."

"My father, Auggie. Not my 'dad'. And for what it's worth, neither did I."

Auggie raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm guessing you two didn't get along."

Annie gave a mirthless bark of laughter."

"How about clueing me in. You've never said anything to me about your parents."

"He walked out on us when I was fifteen. There's nothing else to say."

He located a row of chairs; the cheap industrial kind, as far as he could tell. "Ookay." He folded his can and sat. "So, why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Identifying the deceased, handling the paperwork... that takes... what, forty-five minutes? An hour tops. You've been here since mid-morning."

"He was a Viet-Nam vet. Flew helicopters in and out of firefights, saved dozens, maybe hundreds of lives."

"Yup. Sounds like a real asshole to me."

Annie laughed. That was a start. "He was a hero."

Auggie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, what happened?"

"Joan once told me that there were some who were needed in the field, and others -"

"... and others who needed the field. I got the same talk."

Annie sighed. "Evidently, it doesn't just apply to spies. My father needed the field. He needed the action. He stayed in for a few years after the war was over. Did the years he needed to do to qualify for his pension, and then became a civilian chopper pilot. He was good at it, and eventually ran a helicopter tour company."

"But, let me guess, he missed the rush." He heard a rustle of clothing, and guessed that she shrugged. "Annie?"

"I dunno. Maybe. Danielle and I were just kids. All we knew that Mom was alone more and more. And when my father was home, all they'd do was fight. After a while, they divorced. We stayed with Mom."

Auggie nodded thoughtfully. "And your dad?"

"We'd spend the summers with him. He'd take us on amazing adventures. Hiking in the Appalachian Trail. Camping in the Grand Canyon. Surfing in California."

"I can see why you totally hate the guy."

"And then he dropped off the face of the earth."

Auggie said nothing. He'd known more than a few guys who couldn't transition from the adrenaline-fueled warrior life back to life in the civilian world. A lot of them stayed in the military, fearing civilian life more than a bullet or a bomb. Others signed on with private contractors like McQuaid or Blackwater just to keep the adrenaline flowing. He was lucky in that the choice had been made for him. Even luckier that the CIA had still wanted him afterwards.

The touch of Annie's hand startled him back to the present. "I remember the smell of his cologne. Old Spice," she laughed.

"Really?"

"Really. I still like it."

"Noted."

Annie leaned her head on his shoulder, and sighed. "He loved the wilderness. He'd take us, Danielle and me, camping far away from the city lights. He'd throw this old quilt on the ground, practically drown us in insect repellant, and we'd stay up late star gazing, naming constellations, counting satellites, looking for shooting stars. Danielle would fall asleep, and then it would be just Dad and me."

"That's where it comes from."

"Hmm...Once, it was just a few days before school was set to start up again, we were living in Sweden. He woke us up in the middle of the night to show us the northern lights. It was cold. There was an early frost on the ground, but he bundled us all up in a blanket, and we watched the colors racing across the sky."

"Sounds wonderful."

"It was. And then it stopped."

Auggie waited, saying nothing.

"The following year, he promised to take us hiking along the Pacific Trail. Instead, he paid for us to horseback riding camp. The year after that it was magic camp. Then space camp. The money kept coming, but he didn't. Then, the money stopped coming. After that, he stopped calling. By the time I left for college, contact trickled down to cards at my birthday and Christmas. Then nothing."

"Maybe he couldn't."

"He could have found a way."

"Do you want me to look into it?"

"What purpose would that serve?"

"It might give you answers, closure. People don't just disappear for no reason. You should know that better than anyone."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Auggie scrubbed a hand over his face. "Nothing, except that you had compelling reasons to go dark. Maybe he did, too."

Annie gave no answer, and for a while, neither one spoke.

"So, how did he die?" Auggie asked, breaking the silence.

She didn't answer.

"Annie?"

"They found him in an alley." Annie sighed. "No wallet. No i.d."

"Cause of death?"

"Nothing violent. They'll know more after the autopsy."

Auggie nodded. "Are you sure it's your father? If he had no i.d..."

"It's him, okay? He had pictures in his pocket, one was of Danielle, but the other was of me with Mark Ramsay at my graduation. The called the school. The school got in touch with Safia. Safia called Joan."

"Danielle needs to be told."

"No, she doesn't. Our father left us a long time ago. This would only stir up painful memories."

"I disagree, and this isn't the only thing she needs to be told about."

"Objection noted." Without warning, Annie stood up. "I'm done here. Do you need a ride?"

Auggie sighed and reached for her arm. "One day, you and I are going to have a long talk."

"One day, Auggie. But until then, trust me, it's better this way."

* * *

Back at Langley, life continued as if nothing had changed. In spite of his long years at the Agency, it always came as a surprise that the most life altering events could happen, and yet it was business as usual at the CIA.

Familiar stilettoed footsteps drew Auggie from his musings. "Annie!"

"Yeah?" she answered from the door. She didn't enter the tech ops enclosure.

"I have something or you," he said holding out a folder.

"Another mission?"

"Read it and find out."

Annie quickly scanned the file. "Auggie... how did you?"

"I called in a couple of favors. Your father didn't abandon you. He wanted to keep you safe."

"He was flying secret missions into Afghanistan?"

"Afghanistan, Kosovo, Central African Republic, wherever we had allies in need of support. Secret allies with dangerous enemies. He did it as long as he could be of service, as long as his health held up."

"It says here his tox screen was clean."

"You'll have to wait on the full autopsy report, but despite how and where he was found, he wasn't a bum." Auggie searched his desk for another folder. He found it and handed it to Annie. "It's up to you whether you contact your sister or not, but he had an attorney, a will, and a sizeable life insurance payout. You and Danielle are his sole beneficiaries."

Annie stared at the folder's contents, then dropped it on Auggie's desk. "This doesn't change anything. For all intents and purposes, Danielle is the only surviving child. She will get my share. I don't need it."

* * *

Annie parked her car over on the shoulder of the narrow county road. She got a backpack and a blanket out of the trunk, and, hitching the pack onto her shoulders, she headed up the trail. The sun was setting, and night would soon envelop the Blue Ridge. She spread the blanket on the ground, and pulled a bottle out of the backpack.

The sky was quickly turning from turquoise to indigo. Planets first, then stars and constellations began to pierce the darkness. Before long, the whole Milky Way spilled out above her head. She waited until the night was at its darkest, then twisted off the bottle cap. She raised it to the stars, took a long draft, and then poured the rest of the beer onto the ground. "Thanks, Dad. Rest in peace."

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Please review._


	3. Chapter 3 - Maiden Voyage

Body and Soul

Chapter 3: Maiden Voyage

_Inspiration: Herbie Hancock's __Maiden Voyage__ from the 1965 concept album of the same name. Give it a listen for Herbie's oceanic inspiration, his piano playing, and the stellar back-up ensemble accompanying him. _

_Tag: S1, Ep. 1 - Pilot._

_Dear Readers:_

_There were a few ways I was tempted to go with this one, and I may revisit this in the future with some of my other ideas. This time, however, I was re-watching the pilot, thinking that's one hell of a new employee orientation! (I was also thinking that the show's creators planted some seeds in that pilot episode that we're still seeing grow and develop five seasons later. Fingers crossed that __Covert Affairs__ gets as many more seasons as it needs to see them all come to fruition.)_

_Anyway, here's another conversational bit of fluff to bring closure to Annie's first week at the CIA._

_Thanks for all your reviews, follows and PMs. I appreciate everyone single one._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Auggie took and long pull from the bottle, wiped his lips, and let the pub's end-of-the-work week ambiance wash over him. Not that he worked the typical nine-to-five, but it was Friday, and Allen's on a Friday was better than work. The music, a tolerable blend of Motown and classic rock, was a little louder than on week-nights, the laughter more raucous , the banter more flirtatious. The crowd of students, government workers, and the occasional spy or two was maybe a little more drunk, and blowing off steam at the end of another work week.

He set his bottle down, leaned back in his chair, and, in his own manner, surveyed the room. From the dart board on the far side of the bar, Jai let out a victory hoot as another hapless analyst fell to his deadly aim. From somewhere around his three o'clock, Bea from PsyOps was swearing off men... again! One table away in the opposite direction, Barber from Signals was narrating in an animated crescendo his latest epic video game win.

As for himself, he was simply enjoying the perfect close of another successful week of keeping his operatives and America safe. Having a decent watering hole only a few blocks from home, made it even better.

Nearby, maybe at the bar, two girls were whispering in conspiratorial tones. Blocking out the other sounds, he tried to zero in on their conversation. Maybe they were talking about him. He turned their way, and gave them his most disarming smile. Giggles. Stiletto heels. Bingo!

The slam of heavy glass on wood surprised him. That was direct. He straightened in his chair.

"So, let me guess. A typical week at the Agency?"

"Walker," he drawled.

A chair scraped in front of him.

"Join me."

"In the space of three days, I've been shot at, arrested, choked, threatened with dismissal, and given a medal. A typical first week?"

"And impressed the Seventh Floor suits. Don't forget that." He raised his bottle. "Well played."

"Joan said that most operatives go their entire careers without being shot at. In contrast, you said yesterday was a typical Thursday at the Agency. Who was telling the truth?"

Auggie took another long draw, emptying his bottle. He wiped his mouth, and pursed his lips. "Hmmm. The truth. You'll find that where we work the truth is kind of a fluid concept."

"Meaning..."

"Meaning that around there the truth is complicated. There are degrees of honesty. It's all about need-to-know. You're expected to trust your handler, your team, your superiors. In exchange, they will feed you only as much truth as they feel you absolutely require to complete your op."

"You, too?"

"Me, too. My clearance may be higher than yours, but even I don't know all the details about most missions."

"So the Agency uses us the way we're trained to use our assets. Expecting our trust it, but keeping us in the dark."

"If that's how you want to look at it."

Annie didn't reply. Instead she filled the second glass, and slid it across the table until it touched the back of Auggie's hand.

Auggie grinned. "Plying me with liquor won't help."

"I was feeling sorry for you."

Auggie frowned.

"As I would for any guy having to drink Bud Light."

He grinned and took a swallow. A rich amber ale. The rookie knew her beers. "For what it's worth," he said after another swallow, "I knew as much about Stas as you did."

"What about Ben?"

"Who?"

Annie sighed. "Never mind. Someone I used to know. I thought that maybe... It was stupid... random."

Auggie made a thoughtful noise, but said nothing. He listened to Annie drink, put her glass down, and refill it from the pitcher. He waited. Most people ended up talking if only to fill the silence. As the silence lengthened, Auggie began to realize Annie wasn't most people. "So, tell me about this Ben guy?"

"I already did."

"The tearful good-bye?

Annie nodded, then remembered. "Yeah."

"And you thought he was CIA?"

"The pieces just seemed to fit. Then what you said about trust and truth..." Annie gave a dry grunt of laugher. "He left a note. Said the truth was complicated."

"It usually is. No matter who you work for. You're not reconsidering, are you?" Auggie liked this rookie. He didn't want her to quit because of one op gone haywire. "You did well, considering the circumstances. You kept your cool, got the intel, and saved a guy's life. That's more than most rookies can say about their first op."

"Better than Joan?"

Auggie smiled. "I don't know. I came in later."

"Okay. Better than you?"

"No," he grinned and emptied his glass.

"Details?"

"Need to know, Walker." He reached across the table, found the jug, and refilled his glass expertly, while Annie watched. "Impressed?" he asked, shoving the jug back towards Annie.

"Should I be?"

Auggie laughed. "Nope."

Annie paused, drawing curlicues that sprouted out of the water rings on the table. "At the Farm, they're always telling us not to expect life at the CIA to be like a James Bond movie; that firefights, car chases, and explosions are actually marks of bad spycraft."

"That's true. The last thing you want to do is to attract notice. It's all about subterfuge."

"Right. So I worked on my deception skills, practiced diversion, evasion, and sleight of hand."

"All great skills to have."

"And then this week happened."

"And now you're having second thoughts."

"No. Just trying to figure out what I signed up for."

"Because, if you're having second thoughts, I know someone at the State Department. With your language skills, you'd be a shoe-in."

Annie leaned forward. "Are you telling me I shouldn't be a spy?" she whispered. "'Cause the DCS just gave me a medal."

"No, just letting you know you have options. You should do this job because you want to, not because you have to."

"Well I want to, okay? I just want to know what to expect."

"You're in the wrong place for that. Trust your instincts. Like I told you, you did well, especially for a first op. And bureaucratic b.s. to the contrary, they do appreciate initiative. I just want you to be sure of the choices you're making, because in a place where the whole concept of truth is fluid, the only thing you can be entirely sure of are your own motives. Well, that and your handler," he added, smirking. "You've got to trust him implicitly, completely and unconditionally."

"Noted," Annie laughed, but quickly grew serious again. "Medal notwithstanding, Joan is sending me back to the Farm. Tomorrow. I need to finish my firearms training. I have one month left."

"It'll fly by. You'll be back in no time."

"There's no guarantee I'll be back in the DPD."

"You impressed Joan."

"After she threatened to fire me."

"We've been over this before. You scored a huge win, Walker. She won't forget it. And she won't just hand you over to some other division without a fight. She goes to bat for her people."

Annie's phone vibrated on the table. She picked it up and glanced briefly at the number.

"You planning on answering that?"

"Later," she said and stood up. "I'm out of here. I've got to go home and pack. Need a ride?"

Auggie shook his head. "Good luck back at the Farm, Walker."

"See you in a month, Auggie."

Auggie waved, and listened as her footsteps moved towards the door. His phone buzzed in his pocket just as the bell over door jingled. He listened to the text message, and a smile spread across his face. So much for firearms training. Life at the DPD was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

* * *

_Thanks for reading. Please review._


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